


Elysium

by darkavenger



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Historical, M/M, OT3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:12:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkavenger/pseuds/darkavenger
Summary: The Last City on Earth hasn't even been built yet, and already there are enemies that seek its destruction. Cayde, Shaxx, and Zavala are sent away on a mission to stop another threat to the City from forming, but not all the threats the City is facing are external. The residents of the Last City will need to put their differences aside and work together if they want to survive, and so will Cayde, Shaxx and Zavala.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in the early days of the City Age, while the City is still being constructed. As such, there are a number of things that are different from the present or that are called by different names in Destiny's present.

The sun is setting before Shaxx turns up, the dying light of the sun painting the campyard orange. Under the shadow of the Traveller, Zavala waits with slowly fading patience. He catches sight of the distinctive white and orange armour of his friend and brother-in-arms heading towards him, and lets out a sigh of exasperated relief. “Lord Saladin sent for us half an hour ago.” He falls into step with Shaxx.

“Busy,” Shaxx says, unapologetic. They wend their way through the campsite towards Saladin’s residence, pausing to let two Risen carrying planks of timber pass. “Besides,” Shaxx adds as they pause, “it does him good to wait.”

Zavala shakes his head, frustrated not for the first time at the way his best friend and his mentor seem to clash. “Saladin has been very good to us.”

Shaxx shrugs, fur mantle shifting, and Zavala knows under the helmet there’s a sneer on his face. “Doesn’t mean he owns us. We’re not his pups, to come when he calls.”

Zavala sighs, tiring of playing peacemaker. They’re almost at the home of the Iron Lords, the city of tents giving way to rough, but more permanent structures. “Lets just see what he wants.”

The Iron Lords live in a Hall when they stay in the City, not unlike that of the Warlords who they once fought against. Built from roughly hewn planks cut from the tallest of trees, the Iron Hall towers above the neighbouring buildings. Against the plain, unpainted wood, the banners of the Iron Lords in residence fly, colours bold; Skorri, Gheleon, Felwinter, and their own patron, Saladin.

Shaxx grunts in disgust. “Felwinter. That snake.  And Gheleon. Because Felwinter isn’t enough of creep.”

Zavala can’t argue with Shaxx’s assessment of either of those two. “You like Skorri well enough.”

“Everyone likes Skorri,” Shaxx mutters, as they head towards the entrance. The doors to the Hall opens into a gloomy darkness, lit only by the flickering light of the long fire that burns in the middle of the twenty odd foot long Hall. Zavala blinks, eyes watering at the smoke and the smell of wet dog. By the fire, a white muzzled wolf raises its head, fangs baring in a disinterested snarl.

“Easy, Frekki,” calls a voice from high above.

Zavala squints; there in the rafters, legs hanging over a beam with a casual disregard for the height, sits Gheleon.

“Creep,” Shaxx says, under his breath, then louder. “Gheleon. Skorri not around? She’s normally the one to greet visitors.”

Gheleon gives them a crooked grin. “She’s not in, so I’m on door duty today. I’ve let Saladin know you’re here, don’t worry.”

“Shaxx. Zavala. Finally,” Saladin’s voice booms, as their mentor strides out of the shadows at the other end of the Hall. “I’ve been waiting.”

Zavala opens his mouth to apologise, but Saladin waves the words away impatiently. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. And I have a job for you.”

“Do you?” Shaxx asks, and Zavala winces, readying himself for another confrontation.

“Yes,” Saladin says, not rising to the challenge. “Shaxx, I don’t have time for your posturing. Just come and see.” The Iron Lord turns without waiting for a response and strides away to a table round the other side of the fire.

Zavala grabs Shaxx’s arm, just below his shoulder plate and squeezes. “Shaxx. Let’s see what he wants.”

“Fine,” Shaxx grumbles, pulling out of Zavala’s grip and walking after Saladin.

Zavala lets out a soundless sigh, then follows.

Felwinter is standing by the table, along with another Exo and a human that Zavala doesn’t recognise, both of them poring over a map. They glance up as Zavala approaches.

“Who’s that?” The unknown Exo asks, nodding at Zavala.

“Zavala,” Felwinter says before Zavala can introduce himself, “Saladin’s other pupil.”

Zavala can sense if not see Shaxx’s glower.

“They’re my two best students,” Saladin says, clapping a hand on Zavala’s shoulder and drawing him close to the table. “If anyone can get you to the Rusted Lands and back safely, they’re the ones you want.”

“I can get myself to the Rusted Lands on my own fine,” the Exo says, looking at Zavala and Shaxx in a not entirely friendly way.

“Cayde,” the human says, a tone of warning in his voice. He smiles apologetically at them, teeth glinting white against his brown skin. “What he means is, we’d be grateful for your assistance in this matter. I’m Andal Brask, by the way, and this is Cayde, he’s one of my party of rangers.”

Zavala nods, taking the hand that’s offered in a brisk handshake. “I’m sure we’ll be happy to help, but I don’t actually know what you need help with yet.”

“I thought it would be easier to talk to you both myself, rather than send you the details via Ghost,” Saladin says. He points at the map. “The Rusted Lands. I know you both have heard things.”

Zavala glances at Shaxx, but his friend stays silent, arms folded in apparent disinterest. Zavala knows he’s listening though; they have heard ‘things’, disturbing whispers that trickle in with the rangers that come back from long patrol, stories told round campfires in the dark of night. He shivers a little, cold despite the blazing fire. “I’ve heard stories about Hive being spotted, but I assumed they were just stories.”

“They’re not just stories, friend,” Andal says grimly. He leans over the map and taps a finger against a point seemingly in the middle of nowhere. “We ran into Hive here. There’s some ruins, pre-Collapse. We followed the Hive into them, back to a Seeder ship.”

Zavala stiffens and exchanges a glance with Shaxx, whose no longer pretending disinterest.

“A ship?” Shaxx asks, coming up to the table. “On Earth?”

Andal shrugs. “We were as surprised as you were.”

“It’s not the first time a ship has been spotted,” Felwinter says, pensively. Zavala watches the ex-Warlord look over the map, sharp eyes scanning the terrain. “They’ve taken the Moon, but we’d be fools to think they’d stop there.”

“So what’s our job?” Zavala asks, turning to Saladin. “Are we going to wipe them out?”

Saladin looks at the map, expression troubled. “Yes, if you can. But there’s more.”

“More?” Zavala asks.

Andal and Cayde exchange a look. “We didn’t just find Hive,” the Exo says.

“We found traces of a settlement among the ruins,” Andal explains. “We had hoped whoever was living there had moved out before the Hive landed, but then we found bodies.”

“How does that change our objective,” Shaxx says bluntly.

“There might be survivors,” Cayde says. “We only found a few bodies, not enough to account for how many the settlement would have housed.”

Shaxx shrugs. “So they left or the Hive ate them. Either way, I don’t see what this changes.”

“The Hive don’t eat flesh,” Felwinter says, before Cayde or Andal can speak. “They kill us for our Light.”

“Well, you’re the expert,” Shaxx says, not managing to conceal his distaste. “Dead is dead.”

Felwinter taps his fingers on the table, expression darker than usual. “Perhaps the settlers were taken. The Hive have their rituals…” He trails off into ominous silence.

“You suggestin’ that there’s a Hive presence on Earth that might be abductin’ Risen to drain us of our Light for unknown yet undoubtedly nefarious purposes?” Gheleon says, emerging out of the darkness.

Shaxx isn’t the only one to jump.

“Make some noise when you move, won’t you?” Felwinter growls irritably.  

“An’ let enemies know where I am?” Gheleon responds, tone derisive, “No thanks.”

“You’re among friends, Gheleon,” Saladin says, with a long-suffering sigh.

“Speak for yourself,” Shaxx mutters. Cayde snorts in what might be agreement.

“This talk of Hive rituals is speculation,” Saladin says firmly, moving the conversation back on topic. “We won’t know what the Hive are doing until we take the fight to them. We must not allow this incursion to go unchallenged. The Hive cannot take the Earth as they took the Moon.” He looks from Shaxx to Zavala. “Will you go?”

Zavala glances at Shaxx. His friend inclines his head, giving Zavala leave to speak for both of them. “We will go.”

“Thank you,” Andal says, sincerely, then elbows Cayde in the side.

“What? Oh. Yeah, thanks.”

It’s hard to tell but Zavala thinks the Exo is scowling. He makes a note to find out what Cayde’s problem is and sort it, hopefully before they’re stuck out in the wilds, lives dependant on each other. “So what’s the plan?” he asks, focusing for now on the mission. “Who else is involved in this?”

Andal and Saladin exchange a look, before Saladin speaks,  “We’re keeping this contained, for now. We don’t want mass panic. We’ll send you, a small force, to assess the danger, try and figure out the Hive’s goals, and if possible eradicate them.”

“So we’re on our own?” Shaxx asks.

“You’ll have Cayde,” Andal adds.

“You’re not coming?” Zavala asks, dismayed. He’d hoped for the other ranger to act as a buffer between them and Cayde.

“No,” Andal says, “I want to come, but I have other duties to attend to.” He clasps a hand on Cayde’s shoulder and squeezes. “Cayde’s fully capable of guiding you to the Hive ship, and he’s first rate in a firefight.”

“Glad to have you,” Zavala says, nodding politely.

Cayde barely nods back.

Zavala’s eyes narrow. What is the Exo’s problem?

“No offense, but I’ll wait to see him in action,” Shaxx says. He turns to Cayde unapologetically. “I hope you’re as good as he says you are. It’s going to be dangerous enough without having a someone along that’s a liability.”

Cayde bristles. “I’ve got no problem proving myself,” he says, hand flipping aside his cloak to reveal the handcannon at his hip.

Gheleon takes a nervous step back from the table, while Felwinter looks on in interest. “Duelling?” the former Warlord asks, sounding a little hopeful.

Andal makes a choked off noise of dismay, and Zavala feels a surge of fellow feeling for the ranger. He takes a step between Cayde and Shaxx, not interested in seeing things escalate. “That won’t be necessary. If Lord Saladin is fine with it, then that’s good enough for us, right Shaxx?” He makes his tone stern enough that Shaxx backs down immediately.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“We good?” Andal says, eyebrows raised, looking between Shaxx and Cayde. The Exo shrugs and says flippantly, “Sure. I’ll have plenty of opportunity to show him exactly how good I am.”

“I expect both of you to put aside your own egos, and work together,” Saladin says, levelling Cayde and Shaxx with an unimpressed glower. “What you are fighting for is bigger than either of you. I will not have either of you jeopardising the safety of this City because of your personal issues, is that clear?”

“It’s clear, sir,” Zavala says.

Saladin sighs, “Well, at least I can count on you, Zavala. Now, let’s go over the details of this mission…"

 


	2. Chapter 2

Zavala wakes up early the next morning and goes to check that Shaxx is awake. Shaxx’s tent is already gone, packed away, and the man himself is sat by a campfire. He glances over to Zavala, “Breakfast is ready.”

Zavala walks over to the fire and lowers himself down. Silently Shaxx hands him a bowl of stew and a mug of coffee. Zavala is used enough to Shaxx’s cooking to not complain about stew for breakfast. “You should have woken me up.”

Shaxx shrugs, staring into the fire. The sun hasn’t risen yet, and the light is dim, the fire playing with the shadows that dance over Shaxx’s face. “It’s early. You have time to pack. Thought I’d let you sleep.”

Zavala nods, and continues eating. The silence between them is relaxed, comfortable. There’s no sign of apprehension about their upcoming mission in Shaxx’s expression as he sips on his own coffee. They’ve sat like this together dozens of times before a mission, and there’s no one Zavala would rather have at his side. Zavala sighs, blowing on his stew a little to cool it. Despite the comfort of the routine, he finds himself uneasy.

Shaxx must sense his mood. “What’s the matter? Hive on your mind?”

Zavala shrugs, taking another mouthful of the stew. He chews, then swallows. “Not the Hive.”

“The Exo,” Shaxx says.

“Cayde,” Zavala agrees. “He doesn’t want to work with us.”

“Tough shit,” Shaxx says plainly, draining the last of his coffee. “He doesn’t have a choice.”

“Why doesn’t he want to work with us?” Zavala asks, a little frustrated. “We’ve never met him before, so you can’t have done anything to piss him off.”

Shaxx chuckles, “Don’t bet on it.” He sobers up. “Look, whatever it is, he’ll get over it or we’ll tie him up and use him as thrall-bait.”

Zavala shakes his head, trying not to be amused. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Shaxx grunts and dumps out the dregs of his mug. “Well, get over it fast. The sun’s rising and we need to get going.”

Zavala finishes his coffee in a gulp, wincing a little at the bitter aftertaste, then gets up.

They meet Cayde on the City’s outskirts. The sun is still hidden by the mountains in the distance, but there’s enough light that they’re not tripping over tents as they make their way. Cayde is waiting on his own, no ranger friends here to see him off. Zavala had been foolishly hoping that Cayde’s bad mood might have just been the result of fatigue, but given the sullen nod that they get in the way of greeting, that isn’t the case.

“How far is your ship?” Zavala asks, skipping the pleasantries. They’d already agreed on how they were planning on getting to the Rusted Lands yesterday.

Cayde summons his Ghost. “A few miles north of here. It’s flat enough that we can travel by Sparrow.” He summons his own before Zavala can ask anymore questions, hopping on and taking off without another word, cloak streaming out behind him like a ragged banner.

Zavala curses, and summons his own vehicle, not wanting to be left behind. Despite his concerns, and Cayde’s seeming grudge, the Exo never goes out of sight.

They catch up to Cayde quickly, although the noise of the Sparrows and the wind precludes any talking. They’ve been travelling for about ten minutes, when Cayde starts to slow, and veers his Sparrow over to a rocky outcrop. Zavala and Shaxx follow suit, cutting their engines and jumping off, their ghosts transmatting their Sparrows away.

“So where’s the ship?” Shaxx asks, striding over to Cayde and looking round. Zavala follows, similarly confused. There’s no sign of a ship, and the rocks are too small to be hiding one.

“It’s cloaked,” Cayde says, summoning his Ghost again. The Ghost’s light flashes and its shell spins and rotates as it works, and a mid-size Class C starship suddenly appears on the ground before them.

Shaxx lets out a low whistle. “Well ranger, I’m impressed. Cloaking units are rare enough, but to hide something this size… that must have cost you.”

Cayde gives a one-shouldered shrug, but Zavala can tell the Exo is pleased. “Not really. We’ve killed enough Stealth Vandals that we have plenty of stealth drives to play around with.”

“Still,” Shaxx says, walking up to the ship and inspecting it, “you had to figure out the engineering, and get it to work with our tech. You did a good job. My sensors didn’t pick it up at all.”

Cayde’s posture relaxes a little from the stiff way he’s been holding himself the whole time they’ve been talking. “You think this is impressive? You should see what some rangers are doing with stealth drives and a bit of Light.”

Shaxx inclines his head in interest. “In combat?”

“It’s still being tested, but it looks promising,” Cayde answers.

“Interesting. Maybe you can introduce me to some of the people testing this tech when we get back.”

Zavala keeps his face impassive, but it's a struggle. He shoots Shaxx a look, which the other man ignores.

Cayde hesitates, then nods. “Sure. If we all survive.”

The ranger gets his Ghost out and goes up to the ship, letting his Ghost flit up and away to start interacting with the ship’s computer system.

Zavala hangs back. “Making nice?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

Shaxx inches his shoulders up in a shrug. “The tech is impressive.”

Zavala lets his friend have a rare smile. “Thank you.”

“Hey!” Cayde calls them over, as the ship’s hatch slides open, steps descending. “You two ready?”

They board the ship. It’s a bit of a squeeze - the ship clearly isn’t designed for three people, let alone someone of Shaxx’s proportions. The man swears as he bangs his head for a third time on an overhead shelf.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself,” Cayde says, nodding him towards one of the seats in the back of the ship. Cayde eyes Zavala, “You’d better come up front with me.”

Cayde moves around the ship with an ease that speaks of familiarity, heading into the cockpit and settling into the helms-seat with a grace that Zavala is hard to match. Zavala has to squeeze himself into the co-pilot’s chair, and he’s barely strapped himself in before Cayde is entering the launch protocols.

Zavala clenches his hands on the arms of the chair, never comfortable in a ship he’s not flying. “You seem to know the ship well.”

Cayde nods, eyes never leaving the controls. “She’s mine. I had her before I met Andal and the rest.”

“You kept her?” Zavala asks, honestly curious.

Cayde’s fingers still a second. “Never know when you’ll need a back-up plan,” the Exo says finally, then taps another key. “Ready yourself, we’re lifting off.”

Zavala leans back and tries to relax as the ground falls away beneath them. He takes a deep breath, willing his stomach to settle, then stops breathing as the ship reaches altitude and suddenly moves forward. The ground blurs beneath them.

“We’ll be at the Rusted Lands in under an hour,” Cayde says, checking their flight path. He undoes his harness and turns to Zavala, tilting his head slightly. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Zavala grits out, forcing his hands to unclench from the arms. “We’re going very fast.”

“Yeah? She’s a fast ship. You coming to the back?”

Zavala takes another deep breath and undoes his own harness. He doesn’t look out the window. Cayde knows what he’s doing, he won’t get them killed.

Shaxx is craning his head to look out the window. “She’s fast,” he notes, approvingly, before twisting around to undo his own harness. “How long will it take us?”

“Just under an hour,” Cayde says, pulling down a seat opposite Shaxx. “We’ll have to land outside the ruins and make our way in on foot. That’ll take about an hour to get from the outskirts to where the Seeder ship was seen. We can look at the remains of the settlement as well on our way.”

“Sounds good,” Zavala says, taking the seat next to Shaxx. “You can take point while leading us to the Seeder ship, then we’ll take the lead.”

Cayde folds his arms and leans back, aggressively nonchalant. “Oh yeah?”

Zavala narrows his eyes. “Yes.”

Shaxx lets out a bark of laughter, apparently amused. “That a problem, Exo?”

“Actually, yeah,” Cayde says, optics blazing as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been running this mission, I know the land, I know how to infiltrate. I can lead this.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not in charge,” Shaxx says, leaning forward himself. He jerks his head in Zavala’s direction, “He is.”

Cayde’s optics shift to meet Zavala’s gaze. There’s plenty of hostility there. Zavala doesn’t flinch at it. “And why is that?”

“Lord Saladin put me in charge,” Zavala says. He doesn’t try to elaborate or explain himself. His authority is not up for debate.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not one of you Iron Lords' little serfs,” Cayde says.

Zavala can’t stop himself from raising his forehead in surprised amusement at this. Shaxx’s amusement isn’t as subtle. The other man snorts. “We’re not Iron Lords. We may work for Saladin, but we’re not part of their pack.” There’s more than a little bitterness to Shaxx’s tone.

“Andal Brask came to the Iron Lords and asked for their help,” Zavala says, changing the subject.

“Exactly,” Cayde says, throwing his hands up, “Your help! Not for you to take this over.”

“Brask wasn’t complaining when Saladin put us in charge,” Shaxx says.

“Yeah, well, that’s Andal.”

Zavala’s eyes narrow again. “Andal is your leader.”

“No one is my leader,” Cayde says, suddenly furious. “I may follow Andal for now, but I do so because I choose to, not because I’m ordered.”

Zavala and Shaxx exchange a look. Rangers are well known for having a somewhat… looser infrastructure and less rigid chain of command than the Risen that dwell within the City walls and take responsibility for the City defences. Zavala personally can’t fathom how they can work like that, and is generally surprised that they manage to get anything done at all.

As is often the case, Shaxx says what Zavala wishes he could say. “Well get used to following orders, because like it or not this is a joint operation now and either you learn to follow or I leave you tied up in the ship until we get back.”

“Shaxx, enough,” Zavala says.

Shaxx sits back, which is good, because Cayde looks like he was about to lunge at him. To the ranger’s credit, he’s controlled enough that he doesn’t make a move, just says, “Good luck getting a ride home. You leave me in this ship, you better not expect to find her when you come back.” Cayde cocks his head, considering, “That is, if you come back.”

Shaxx lets out a low chuckle that's not at all amused.

“Shaxx,” Zavala says warningly. He looks at Cayde, then asks in a measured tone, “Have you considered I might be better suited to take the lead on this mission?”

From the Exo’s body language it’s pretty clear that thought hadn’t occurred to him and wasn’t about to. “I can handle myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Zavala says evenly. “I can tell from your ship and what you’ve said that you’re a skilled survivor. What I doubt is your experience working closely as part of a team.” Zavala clasps his hands loosely. “We will need to work together to take down the Hive. The Hive are many, and they work as one. We cannot face them divided.”

“You were going to leave me behind,” Cayde says.

“Better than take you with us and have you get us all killed because you didn’t listen,” Zavala says, bluntly, “because maybe you can take care of yourself, but I don’t believe you can take care of everyone else.”

Cayde flinches.

Zavala eases off. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Cayde lets out a hollow laugh. “Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t,” Zavala says. “I believe you would be an asset. It’s true - you know the land, you’ve been here before. I’ll believe you’re better suited to stealth than either Shaxx or myself, and I’d like the extra firepower in a fight. But I won’t take you if you won’t work with me.”

Cayde looks away, fists clenching tightly. Zavala gives him a minute. For once, Shaxx is helpful and stays quiet. “Fine,” Cayde says eventually, “I’ll follow your lead.”

Zavala relaxes, more relieved than he expected by Cayde’s response. “Thank you,” he says, sincerely.

“Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet,” Cayde says, waving his thanks aside. “We’ll have to see how well we work together.”

“All I ask is that you try,” Zavala says.

Cayde rubs a gloved hand over his head, an oddly self-conscious gesture from the self-assured ranger. “Alright. Well, we should be almost there. I’m uh, gonna head back up front.” He leaves before Zavala can say anything else.

Zavala sighs, satisfied at the outcome of their confrontation. “Glad we got out that out in the open.”

Shaxx chuckles fondly, “You could talk anyone into following you.”

Zavala shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard. I simply told him the facts.”

Shaxx snorts, scornful. “It was more than that. Like it or not, Zav, you’re a born leader.”

Zavala frowns, uncomfortable.


	3. Chapter 3

Zavala is checking his gear when they’re hit. The ship shudders, knocking both him and Shaxx out of their seats. Zavala keeps a tight grip on his autorifle; the last thing this situation needs is a weapon accidentally discharging. “Tyr!”

His Ghost materialises, shell spinning fast in shock, and dematerialises his gun for him. Zavala lurches onto his feet and heads for the cockpit. He bounces off the walls as the ship jerks sharply sideways, and falls more than steps down. “Cayde! What’s going on?” he demands, although the Hive tombship that fills the viewscreen tells him most of the answer.

“Hive,” Cayde says anyway, vocaliser sounding strained, “they opened a portal. Appeared out of nowhere and fired on us.”

Zavala takes the co-pilot chair and straps himself in. “I felt it hit. Damage report?”

“Still flying.” Cayde’s optics never leave the viewscreen, his hands dancing across the controls. “Can’t take another direct hit like that though.”

“What about this ship’s cloaking? Is it disabled?”

Cayde curses as the Hive ship powers up for another shot; the energy blast glowing a sickly green. “The cloaking isn’t usable while the ship is flying. I haven’t figured out how to get that to work yet.”

The energy projectile is launched; it’s not fast, but even as Cayde moves them out of its path, the projectile corrects, locking onto them with the Hive’s signature tracking skill. “Shit,” Cayde curses, “Hold on.”

Zavala watches as Cayde fights to escape the orb of incoming energy. In this moment, there’s nothing for him to do but trust in the Exo’s skill as a pilot. He clenches his hands on the arms of the seat as the energy blast grazes them, the ship shuddering under the impact. It’s not a direct hit but from the way the ship’s console lights up, it’s done enough damage. “Cayde?” he asks, defering to the pilot, “What’s our course of action?”

Cayde doesn’t respond, gloved fingers flying across the controls. Warnings flash and error messages scroll across the console almost too quickly to follow by eye. Shields are gone, one of the engines is malfunctioning, hull integrity is compromised, the ship’s meagre weapons’ system is offline - they’re lucky to be in the air.  

“Cayde! I need an answer.”

Cayde spits another curse, then finally looks up from the console. “We can’t fight, we can’t flee. We need to take our chances and land.”

Zavala nods; he’d thought as much, but he’d needed Cayde to confirm. “Can you land the ship?”

Cayde lets out a laugh that doesn't contain a trace of amusement. “Sure. Might not be that pleasant a landing, but we should walk away.”

“Okay,” Zavala says, unstrapping himself. “I’ll regroup with Shaxx, get us ready to hit the ground running. Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Cayde says tensely, optics already fixed on the console again, “Worry about yourselves.”

 

Shaxx looks up from loading his rocket launcher as Zavala walks into the back. “What’s the plan?” He has to almost yell to be heard over the groan of the ship’s sole remaining engine struggling to compensate.

“We’re landing and making the rest of our way on foot. There’s a Hive tombship firing on us so expect a welcoming party.” Zavala nods at the rocket launcher. “I see you’re prepared for trouble.”

Shaxx shrugs. “Figured it might come in handy.”

The ship shakes at another near-impact, the metal of the ship shrieking as it’s subjected to forces it was never built to withstand. Zavala steadies himself. “The plan’s to retreat, not engage.”

Shaxx laughs, swaying as the ship rocks with another close call “I’ve always found a couple of rockets makes retreating a little easier.”

Zavala nods, grabbing onto one of the handles attached to the ship’s ceiling. The noise of the engine suddenly cuts out, leaving in its wake a silence that is far, far worse. “Fine. Brace for impact.”

They don’t so much land as make a controlled crash. Zavala’s arm is wrenched out of his socket as they hit the ground, but he keeps on his feet unlike Shaxx, who's left picking himself off the floor. He shakes his head when Zavala offers his good hand, getting to his feet unaided. "I'm fine," Shaxx says. "You?"

"Shoulder," Zavala says, with a grimace. "Should be fine, just hurts."

Damage assessment done, they move, heading to the exit. The door’s locking mechanism is jammed, but a shoulder charge from Shaxx solves that problem. Tyr flies around Zavala in a tight orbit, healing the damage to his shoulder and the other small injuries he accumulated in their landing. They stumble outside. Rain is falling in a light mist. The tombship hovers high above them in the overcast sky. No sun; a good day for Hive.

“Get Cayde,” Shaxx says, raising his rocket launcher. “I’ll keep an eye.”

Zavala runs to the front of the ship. He can already see the smoke rising up, black and curling. The front of the ship is crumbled like an old tin can from where they’d nosedived into the ground. Zavala can see flames from where the cabin would be, and more smoke, billowing up in thick black clouds from a breach in the ship’s exterior. He clambers up, onto the wreckage, and climbs over to where the cabin is located. Smoke swirls around his helmet, making it hard to see, but the air filters in his helmet do their job and he’s able to breathe. The problem is the heat; he can feel it, even through his armour, the plasteel plating heating up and the flame-resistant material of his bodysuit starting to catch. He ignores the pain and starts to peel back the pieces of the ship’s hull.

Inside the cabin, Cayde lies motionless, optics dark, sprawled in a broken heap across the ship’s console. Flame licks over his frame hungrily. Zavala reaches in and grabs the Exo, heedless of the heat and the flames. Sweat coats Zavala like a second skin. He feels like a lobster, cooking inside its own shell. He yanks at Cayde. The Exo is partially pinned under some of the wreckage. Zavala grits his teeth and heaves until he comes loose, then lifts Cayde up and over his shoulder. One-handed, Zavala half-climbs, half-slides down the the ship's hull onto the ground.

He stumbles a safe distance from the ship, and dumps Cayde in an inelegant heap on the ground. Cayde’s Ghost materialises, now that its safe from the fire, and starts to work on the Exo. Tyr materialises and begins to do the same for Zavala. Around them the rain is still falling, too lightly to help put out the ship, but enough that it helps to contain it, the surrounding brush too damp to catch from the embers that are carried on the breeze. Zavala looks around for Shaxx, who rounds the ship, appearing out of the smoke.

“You look like hell,” Shaxx says, coming towards him. He glances at Cayde, who’s still a crumpled heap on the ground. “I take it back, he looks like hell.”

“What happened with the Hive ship?” Zavala asks. The tombship has vanished.

Shaxx shrugs. “It left. Must have figured we weren’t a threat with the ship destroyed.”

Zavala nods, “A fair assumption.”

“Speak for yourself.” Cayde’s vocaliser sounds like its still damaged, but that doesn’t stop the Exo from sitting up.

“Cayde,” Zavala moves over to the Exo. “Don’t try to stand yet,” he says, pushing Cayde back down as the ranger tries to do just that, “the damage you took was extensive and your Ghost isn’t done with your repairs.”

“Thank you,” Cayde’s Ghost says, swooping down to hover in front of the Exo’s face, “a Risen with sense. I was beginning to think the two concepts were incompatible.”

“Hey!” Cayde swats his Ghost gently out of his face. The little machine spins once in affront, then continues its work. Cayde looks up at Zavala and Shaxx. “We need to move. The Hive could be back at any moment.”

Shaxx shrugs. “Why would they leave in the first place? Not like they’d need reinforcements to finish us off. They already had us outnumbered and outgunned.”

“Who knows why the Hive do anything?” Cayde argues. “Plus we’re targets for anything else out here that fancies finishing us off. There’s still Fallen packs that roam this area to worry about.”

“We’ll move in a minute, once you’re repaired,” Zavala says, with finality. Cayde looks ready to argue, and Zavala has to admire his spirit. “Here. If you’re worried about us being attacked, let me assuage that fear.”

“I’m not afraid -” Cayde starts indignantly.

Zavala isn’t listening. He concentrates, closing his eyes and feeling for his Light. Once he has it, he takes that connection, and uses it to reach for one of the sources of power he has learnt to draw on. The Void is cold, it burns as it meets his Light, but Zavala isn’t afraid. He has learnt how to harness even this. Breathing out, Zavala widens his stance and pushes out, feeling the Void course through his arms down to his fingertips. He opens his eyes.

Cayde’s jaw drops, and he reaches out with wonder, fingers passing through the transparent purple dome that encapsulates them. “What is this?” he asks, drawing his hand back.

“It’s called a Ward of Dawn,” Zavala says, relaxing his stance. “Nothing outside it can hurt us.”

“It’s amazing,” Cayde says quietly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Zavala shrugs. “It’s a technique I studied under Lord Silimar, part of something he calls the Way of the Defender. I don’t know who first developed the skill, but Silimar has passed it down to a number of the Iron disciples, it’s not something I alone have mastered.”

“Zavala is too modest,” Shaxx says, joining the conversation. “Most people who learn this technique can only maintain the Ward for less than a minute. Zavala’s Ward lasts much longer.”

“How long can you keep it up?” Cayde asks.

Zavala feels his connection to the void begin to ebb. “Long enough. Are you almost healed?’

Cayde gets to his feet. “I'm good to go.” He twists to look at his cloak, now more hole than fabric. “Although that’s gonna need fixing asap.”

Shaxx snorts, amused. “I don't think that's a priority.

Cayde gives him an incredulous look. “You kidding? I can't be seen like this.”

“Seen by who? The Hive?”

The Ward disappears with the suddenness of a soap bubble popping, and with it goes the brief moment of reprieve. Shaxx and Cayde both quiet, Shaxx shifting his stance to one that’s less relaxed. Cayde jerks, head tracking a bird that bursts out of the brush into sudden flight. Zavala looks to Shaxx. “Time to move.”

Shaxx nods. “Ready when you are.”

“Cayde? Are you good to lead us?”

Cayde nods, letting go of his cloak. “Good as new.”

Zavala inclines his head. “Lead on, then.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos or feedback. Special thanks to CanAm77 for all their help with the lore and world building for this story, as well as their support and encouragement.

The skies overhead are grey and they only grow darker as the three of them make their way through the Rusted Lands. Rain begins to fall in earnest as the ruins come into sight, large drops that splatter against their armour and run down in rivulets. Cayde flips his hood up, the rest of his cloak hanging in sad tatters down his back. His Ghost flits ahead of him, a will-o-wisp in the twilight gloom. Shaxx and Zavala follow, the rustle of grasses, rain and the wind the only sound.

They reach the ruins, towering stone buildings that are half-collapsed and walk in the shadows between the walls. Through the high arches of empty windows, Zavala can see the jutting spire of the Hive Seedership in the distance, lit by an eerie luminescence. A shiver crawls down his spine; despite everything he’d heard he hadn’t really believed it until now, the Hive on Earth, their ship like a parasite biting into the Earth’s crust, letting the Hive burrow like an insect crawling under the skin to hatch its eggs and eat the host from the inside out. Horror wars with anger, anger wins. The Hive can keep the Moon, the Moon was already dead. Zavala will not let them take the Earth, will not let them leach the Light and the life from this planet.

The sky darkens as behind the clouds the sun sinks, shadows growing longer as they walk. Cayde’s Ghost hangs back until Zavala catches it up. “Cayde wants to know if you want me to cast a light to help us see where we’re going.”

Zavala shakes his head. “No. If Cayde can manage for now then we won’t use you for that just yet.”

Cayde’s Ghost bobs and flits off to relay the message before returning. “He says that’s fine by him, he was only offering for your benefit.”

Zavala nods. “Good. Keep your light to a minimum then, and keep quiet.” The Hive may well anticipate their arrival, but there is no need to announce it. The Ghost bobs again in acknowledgement, before darting back through the air to its Guardian.

The further into the ruins they go, the darker it gets. The setting sun is lost somewhere behind clouds and buildings. Zavala is glad for Cayde, who true to his word never seems to stumble or hesitate when picking a path. As Zavala thinks that, the Exo pauses and Zavala hurries to catch him up.

"What's wrong?" Zavala demands.

“There’s some signs of the settlement in that building,” Cayde says quietly, jerking his head toward a yawning black entrance to the nearest ruin. “You want to see?”

Zavala hesitates; he’s no tracker, doubts he’ll find anything that Andal and the others missed, but in the end he nods, reluctantly. He knows Shaxx believes the settlers dead, and he himself thinks that’s the most likely outcome, but Cayde had talked about survivors, hadn’t been willing to believe that all the lost settlers could be dead. Zavala feels he owes it to those settlers to at least try and have some hope. “Show me.”

The building they enter is one of the most intact they’ve passed, three and a half of its remaining walls standing, though most of the roof has long since caved in. They’re sheltered enough from view that Zavala summons Tyr and lets his Ghost shine a light on the ground. There’s a patch of blackened earth from what must have been a campfire. Zavala crouches and rubs a gloved finger through the remains. Ash coats it in a fine film. He turns his head, looking around the space, imagining the settlers huddling round the fire, taking shelter from the wind if not the rain.

Shaxx shifts, the only sign of impatience the other man makes, but it’s enough. It’s time to be gone. Zavala stands, wiping his hands together to rid them of the ash. Cayde is still staring at the patch of blackened ground. “Cayde,” Zavala says, gently, calling the Exo back to himself.

Cayde jerks, a surprisingly human gesture of surprise, then looks at Zavala. “There’s more - more campsites like this. We found them, spread throughout this whole area, but we only found five bodies.”

Zavala nods. “You think the Hive took them alive.”

Cayde’s fists squeeze closed. “Yes.”

“Do you think they’re still alive?” Zavala presses. He doesn’t want to be cruel, but he needs Cayde to face facts.

Cayde’s fists clench tighter. “Probably not.”

Not now, is what he’s not saying. It’s been days since they were taken, if they were taken.

Cayde’s fists are still clenched dangerously tight. “But if there’s a chance, then we have to try to find them.”

“And we will,” Shaxx speaks before Zavala can. To Zavala’s surprise, the other man takes a step towards Cayde, resting a hand on Cayde’s shoulder and gripping it firmly. “If there is anyone alive to find, we will.”

“If -” Cayde chokes on the word. “If we’d stayed and gone searching last time, instead of coming for help -”

“Then you and your friends would be dead, with the others,” Shaxx says flatly.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Shaxx says with finality. He shakes Cayde, gently for Shaxx, but enough that Cayde still stumbles, off-balance. “Come on.” Shaxx lets go.

Cayde’s fists uncurl slowly. The Exo spares one last backward glance at the burnt patch, then starts moving.

Zavala lets him take the lead, then once he’s out of earshot says quietly to Shaxx, “You handled that well.”

Shaxx shrugged, “I’m not sensitive, but I’m honest.”

Zavala lets his shoulder knock against Shaxx’s. “I think he needed that honesty.”

Cayde doesn’t take them on any further detours, just leads them on. The daylight is gone, and it’s too overcast for much moonlight to filter through the cloud cover. Cayde is a dark figure moving in the darkness, his Ghost twinkling like a dim and distant star. As they get closer to the ship, signs of the Hive’s presence becomes more obvious; odd, green glowing crystals that seem to have burst through the ground. They don’t encounter any Hive sentries making patrol, and Zavala relaxes infinitesimally.

“Looks like they’re not expecting us,” he mutters to Shaxx.

“Or they’re not worried,” Shaxx says grimly.

They turn a corner, and the spire comes into view. Despite the design which is clearly the product of an intelligent architect, there’s something organic about the spire, as if it, like the crystals, had just burst through the ground, the green glow reminiscent of some sort of insectoid or fungal bioluminescence. Again, Zavala feels his skin crawl. The Fallen may be his enemy, but he understands them at least, and they have their own, savage sort of honour. The Hive are alien in every sense of the word.

“Up here,” Cayde says, suddenly close. He grabs Zavala by the wrist and tugs himself over to a dark shape that resolves itself into some kind of building. “This building pretty much leads up to the ship. We can walk through and get to the ship without being as exposed.”

The inside of the building is black, the darkness only lessened slightly by the glowing green crystals that sprout out of the earth, tangible evidence of the Hive’s corruption. “We’ll take over from here,” Zavala says quietly. Cayde’s mouth opens, the light inside the Exo’s mouth glowing in the gloom. “No arguing, Cayde. You agreed.”

“I did, but hear me out.”

Shaxx growls, impatient, but Zavala allows it, “Go on.”

“Let me go ahead to scout - I’ll just go and see if the entrance to the ship is being guarded or not.”

“And if it is?” Zavala asks.

“Then I’ll come back and tell you,” Cayde says, with no hesitation.

Zavala nods, “Fine. Go safe and quiet.”

“They’ll never see me coming,” Cayde says, one of his optics blinking off in a wink, before he darts away, swift and silent as he promised.

Shaxx shifts on his feet, “A risk.”

Zavala nods again, “Yes.”

Cayde keeps his word. It’s only a minute or two before the ranger is back, without even a rustle of cloak to announce his return. “There’s no guard that I can see or pick up on my sensors,” the Exo says without preamble. “I had my Ghost try and run some scans; they’ve dug in - there’s tunnels that extend downwards for miles. My Ghost picked up some small energy readings that match with minor Hive, but couldn’t pick up much else.”

“There must be more than minor Hive,” Shaxx says. “They wouldn’t send a Seedership without Wizards and Knights at least.”

“I agree,” Cayde says. “They must be down further than I can pick up on the scans from the surface.”

“You said tunnels, plural,” Zavala says.

Cayde nods, “Yeah, from what we can tell it’s like a maze down there. So that's fun.”

“How long have they been here?” Shaxx grumbles, “They should never have been able to get such a foothold.”

Cayde’s cloak rustles as the ranger shrugs. “Don’t look at me, we told you what we saw as soon as we found out, and there’s been rumours of Hive in this area for months.”

“Rumours,” Shaxx says grimly, “which should have been investigated.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Cayde says, holding his hands up defensively. 

“He’s not angry at you, Cayde,” Zavala corrects. He sighs, “Shaxx is right, the Hive should never have been allowed to get this far. Those rumours should have been investigated. I’ll talk to Saladin when we return, ask him to speak to Radegast.”

“Like that’ll do any good,” Shaxx says. “He’s too busy off in Old Russia, chasing after Golden Age myths.”

“A Hive invasion has to take priority,” Zavala says. “If the Iron Lords don’t listen, we’ll have to take it to the Speaker.”

“And what will he do?” Shaxx says derisively. “Talk some more?”

Zavala’s own temper flares at Shaxx’s tone but he keeps his response under control. “Show some respect. He speaks for the Traveller. When he talks, people will listen.”

Shaxx doesn’t back down. “People will listen. Will people act?”

“They will!” Zavala snaps, louder than he intended. They all fall silent for a moment, tense and waiting, but nothing comes  out of the darkness to investigate. “They will,” Zavala says, lowering his voice anyway. “We will make them take action. I will speak to the Iron Lords and to the Speaker and to the Factions until someone listens.”

Shaxx grunts, appeased. “Fine. But this is why we need a leader - not just whatever the Speaker is, but someone to actually organise things like this. The Iron Lords may take the title, but they have no interest in actually governing, and the Factions are too busy infighting over which of them should be in charge to actually take charge.”

Zavala groans, weary of the argument. “So what do you suggest, Shaxx?”

In the faint glow of the crystals, Zavala sees Shaxx look at him.

“You know who I want for leader,” the other Risen says simply.

Zavala shakes his head, unwilling. “Enough.” He looks at Cayde who’d stayed quiet while he and Shaxx had - whatever that was, he doesn’t want to call it an argument - and asks, because he has to, although he knows if there were Cayde would have mentioned it; “No life signs matching the lost settlers?”

“No,” Cayde says, looking between Zavala and Shaxx like that’ll help him figure out whatever just went down, before refocusing. “No, we didn’t pick up any. Hopefully, they’re just being held down too deep for us to read.”

Neither Zavala nor Shaxx point out how unlikely that is. “Alright,” Zavala says. “I’ll take point. Shaxx, bring up the rear.”

Cayde rolls his eyes, “And I guess I’ll just be staying in between the two of you, out of trouble.”

“Correct,” Shaxx says.

“You’re both no fun.”

“Both of you, quiet,” Zavala says. “Let’s move.”

Cayde rolls his optics but quietens down. They make their way through the building, almost soundless. The crumbling doorway comes into view, and just in front of it, the base to the spire. There’s an opening in the earth at the spire’s base. The clouds are beginning to clear overhead, and in the moonlight Zavala can make out the roughly formed steps that lead down the tunnel. He summons Tyr, and his Ghost wordlessly obliges by casting just enough light to guide their way. As Cayde had said, there’s no Hive to be seen.

Zavala takes up his autorifle. His shotgun is strapped to his back, ready to grab. His grenades are charged and ready. He has enough ammo synth that ammo shouldn’t be too much of a worry. He’s as ready as he can be. He glances at the others, checking them over. Cayde is shifting on his feet like he’s not sure what the hold-up is, he’s not holding his weapon, but Zavala has seen how quick he is on the draw. Shaxx meets his gaze and nods, his own gun in his hands. Zavala takes the first step down.

They descend down, down into the darkness. The moonlight is soon gone, but Zavala dismisses Tyr after the first ‘flight’ of stairs. There’s enough light coming from the crystals that seem to grow at almost regular intervals. They see nothing, not even a thrall.

The lower they go, the wider and taller the tunnel grows, until their footfalls echo as they fall. They stop on one of the landings that appear at regular points to let their Ghosts try more scans.

“How much deeper do you think this goes?” Cayde asks, sitting on the ground with his legs crossed, a deck of cards in his lap.

“According to our scans, a lot deeper,” his Ghost replies, spinning distractedly.

“Wow, I feel much more informed now,” Cayde says brightly. “What would we do without you guys?”

Cayde’s Ghost flares its shell in obvious irritation, before going back to its scans.

“This isn’t right,” Zavala says, looking down the next flight of stairs.

“Agreed," Cayde says, sorting his deck. "I came to kill Hive, and all I've done so far is almost fall down two flights of stairs. Haven't the Hive heard of elavators?”

“We should have come into contact with some Hive by now,” Shaxx says, ignoring Cayde as he joins Zavala in standing at the top of the next flight of stairs, staring into the darkness like it'll give him answers.

“What are they doing?” Zavala asks, not expecting an answer. “The Hive always go underground, but they don’t normally bother going this deep.”

“Maybe they’re looking for something?”

Zavala turns to look at Cayde, who shrugs without looking up, shuffling cards from one hand to the other, “Just a thought.”

“We’ve picked up some energy readings approximately two flights down,” Tyr says, flitting in front of Zavala before he can give that possibility the thought it warrants.

“The minor Hive that Cayde picked up on his scans earlier?” Zavala asks, dismissing that train of thought for now, “Or are you reading any major Hive?”

Tyr’s shell spins fast, a habit Zavala has learnt to associate with anxiety or excitement. “Both. There’s energy readings that indicate at least two Knights or Wizards further down.”

Zavala nods, not sure why that’s got his normally calm Ghost worked up. “Fine.”

“Zavala.” His Ghost spins its shell once more, then stills. “We’re also picking up an energy reading that we think might be human.”


End file.
